


Martyr

by Naemi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 14:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3899950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naemi/pseuds/Naemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite being dead, Allison wasn't gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Martyr

 

Allison was at peace with the world when she died. She had suspected that she wouldn't live to have children, and that night, as she stepped out alongside her friends, she _knew._ The premonition of death chilled her bones and made her nerves sing like bowstrings, and her heart thundered blood through her veins—and yet, she didn't hesitate. She was ready to fight, and go down fighting, if that was her destiny.

The exact events that led to her downfall were a blurred mess. Flashes of katana steel, rumbling growls, _everything_ mixed and mingled into a mad man's opus of violence until that moment when she zeroed in, fired, and saved Isaac's life, only to have hers taken a whispering breath later.

To die in Scott's arms was the best way Allison could imagine. With him, her heart was at rest, and when she closed her eyes for the last time, she felt nothing but gratitude for what this world had given her.

But despite being dead, Allison wasn't gone. Not in a metaphorical in-memory-of way, nor in a real one. Not quite.

She didn't have a heartbeat or a breath or a voice anymore, and yet she _was._ Where, she couldn't fathom. This after-world consisted of black shadows, blurred shapes, and distant voices. It was reminiscent of the body waking up while the mind is still dreaming; a world in between worlds, an echo of reality. While her new existence, if it even was one, should probably unsettle her, Allison was only annoyed. Floating between time and space wasn't how she would have imagined the afterlife. It didn't seem like a reward for saving other people.

As she was still considering her situation, the gloom around her broke like clouds after a storm and gave way to a gleaming light. At first, Allison thought this was the moment people were always talking about—reuniting with those who went before you and so on—but she was neither drawn to that light, nor did she know how to move what wasn't physical, even if she wanted to go. Thus, she stayed. She wondered briefly how she could do _that,_ how she could do _anything,_ and her state started to frighten her a little. Especially when she realized that she was still in the same godforsaken place where she had died, although it looked different now. Clean. Cared-for.

 _So maybe this is Hell?_ she thought, but that didn't make sense, either.

As the light grew brighter, the voices that she had heard before morphed from a chaotic, distant choir into several distinct whispers. As if the whole world around her adjusted, or maybe Allison adjusted to this world. Soon, she could make out single words. Her name, _please,_ her name again. Someone else talking about fear, and another person asking for protection.

It was beyond weird, but as she recognized the voices one by one—her dad, Lydia, Scott, and then more, so many more, some right there with her, some still far away—it all made sense. It couldn't be, but it made sense.

The whispered prayers swept over Allison like a warm wind, flooded her like a golden liquid, until she felt light and peaceful again.

She had a purpose. The world still needed her.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Full Moon Ficlet's challenge #118: _Divinity._
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **Moit** , who also made sure that all characters were returned unharmed.
> 
> [Feedback is love.]


End file.
